


L&L Request (Jinhai)

by Yoselin



Series: L&L Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Love & Legends (Visual Novel)
Genre: Captivity, F/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoselin/pseuds/Yoselin
Summary: Originally posted to Tumblr.This one is a HUGE trigger warning for captivity.Prompt: “Can you do a Jinhai x MC with #11 (You're a monster)?”





	L&L Request (Jinhai)

There’s a funny little thing called Stockholm Syndrome. I think I wrote a thesis about it for a college course on Psychology. It was 2 pages long, double spaced, and was a result of half an hour of studying. I didn’t really try at it, failed the assignment, just because I thought it was bullshit.  
Apparently, an event in Stockholm, Sweden brought the phrase to attention. A bank robber held captives for days and treated them with kindness. The end result was that his captives ended up forming a friendship with him. When they were released, they hugged their captor and had nothing but praises to give him.  
See?  
Doesn’t that sound like utter crap?  
Who’s mind is broken enough to skirt past the fact that someone is holding you against your will? Who can just form a connection with someone holding you captive?  
Patty Hearst, Jaycee Dugard, Mary McElroy-all of these women fell prey to Stockholm Syndrome. They developed connections with their kidnappers, fell into their web, and disregarded the fact that their captors were monsters-  
But me?  
I know my captor is a monster.  
I’m not like those other victims, I haven’t glossed over the detail that I was brought here against my will, I’ve just learned to accept it. I  
I don’t try to sympathize with my kidnapper. I don’t try to make excuses for him. I don’t try to humanize him-I just give in.  
I know that the hands that pin me down and drive me to the edge of pleasure could very easily wrap around my throat and kill me. I know that the mouth that presses against mine and leaves dark marks on my skin could easily tear me apart verbally. I know that the eyes that devour me with a simple gaze could very easily one day glimpse at my corpse-  
Yet I’ve grown to accept it.  
I don’t have Stockholm Syndrome. I’m not like Colleen Stan, Mariano Querol, and Natascha Kampusch. I don’t lie to myself to make things easier.  
I know the truth.  
I’m a willing captive because fighting didn’t work.  
There was a time I fought until I was exhausted. Screamed until my throat was raw. Argued until I was red in the face. Yet that never worked for me.  
Giving in was so much simpler. Less of a headache.  
And so I did.  
I gave in to my captor. Abandoned the hope that my friends would one day find me. Let go of the notion that I could go home to Chicago. Shed any resistance that still lived within me and just welcomed my fate.  
But I never fooled myself. I never let myself develop Stockholm Syndrome. I’ve always been honest with myself. I’m a captive and my kidnapper is a monster.  
This fact is present in my mind day in and day out. I recite it to myself like a prayer, a reminder, and sometimes even voice it out to him. I make sure to say it at least once because hearing it out loud fools me into thinking I’m not like them.  
So, even now, a year since this world has fallen to an evil force, I recite it.  
As his cold hands yank me down to his level, the same hands that will kill me some day, mouth crushes against mine, the same mouth that will drive me crazy with its poisonous insults, and eyes peer at me with amusement and arrogance, the same eyes that will see me take my last breath, I recite it then.  
_“You’re a monster.”_  
I hiss it out under my breath as he presses closer. I repeat it as he laughs, a cold and harsh sound against my skin. And I think it as he brings me to the edge once more.  
Monster. Monster. Monster.  
The word reverberates in my skull and leaves my lips once or twice in breathless pants. I cling to it, savor it on my tongue, and engrave it into memory.  
Because I will not fall prey to Stockholm Syndrome. I will not end up a 20/20 story. I will not fool myself into thinking that the man whose name slips from my mouth as stars dance across my vision is anything more than it.  
I may be a captive to a monster, but I am not a Stockholm Syndrome victim-  
Or, at least, that is what I choose to tell myself.


End file.
